


Incendiary

by writeme



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Smut, Unresolved Romantic Tension, barchie, house fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:15:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29912667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeme/pseuds/writeme
Summary: incendiary: (adjective) designed to cause firesPost 5x06 speculation fic with the aftermath of Archie's house fire and Betty's discovery at the swamp. Betty and Archie can pretend this thing they're doing is still casual, but after tonight, will either of them actually believe that?
Relationships: Archie Andrews & Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper
Comments: 12
Kudos: 99





	Incendiary

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick one-shot speculation fic about what could unfold next for our favorite ship! Please leave kudos and reviews, I'd love to hear what you think! Thank you for reading.

The flames that’d overtaken his house are mostly contained by the time she’s pulling onto her mother’s street from their foray out into the woods tracking Polly’s phone. Betty’s own finger nails and clothes are caked with dirt from digging up what she thought would be Polly. She’s cold and a little in shock from their relentless ordeal. She’s relieved it’s not Polly, of course. But it was still someone’s daughter they found. Maybe someone’s sister, lover, or best friend. She can't seem to shake the feeling its left her with.

They have to wait for the police to arrive and give their statements. It takes awhile and it’s later than she’d intended to be out by the time she takes her mother’s keys. They say goodbye to Kevin, parting ways, and she drives them back home in silence. When they come upon the scene on their street, littered with emergency services vehicles, her heart sinks. “Archie!” Her eyes are wide with concern. She slams the car into park as soon as they pull into the driveway and she flies out of the driver’s side door without bothering to close it.

“ARCHIE!” It’s almost guttural, the way she screams his name, frantic as her eyes search his crowded, debris-littered lawn for any sign of him. It’s loud, the sound of water roaring from the hose as it douses the last of the flames feels deafening. 

Her eyes are already welling with tears, too emotionally spent from her earlier endeavors to contain what she’s feeling right now; which is total desperation. She strides quickly onto his yard, poised to scream his name again when she sees him. He’s sitting on the back edge of an ambulance, an oxygen mask over his face which he seems to be trying to prove he doesn’t need, as he keeps ripping it off despite the EMT’s urgings. “Arch!” Her voice is wet with emotion that threatens to slip down her cheeks as she surges towards him.

He hears her that time and his eyes dilate as they take her in. Her clothes are dirty and so are her hands, he can tell there’s a story there. But as his eyes study her face, he finds overwhelming worry written there. Worry he knows is for him. He pulls the plastic apparatus off his mouth again and stands up, opening up to receive her as she throws herself at him. Her arms wrap securely around his shoulders, even though she has to rise onto her tiptoes to do that. “I was so scared when I saw,” She stops, consumed by emotion as she buries her face into his neck. “I thought you were,” She tries again, but fails the second time too. Instead, she presses herself more closely against him, as if to make sure he’s real. “You’re okay right? I mean, I know you’re not  _ okay _ , but well, you know what I mean.”

His own arms slip protectively around her, crossing over her back to settle on each of her hips as he breathes her in. She’s the first real sense of comfort he’s had since he saw the damn flames and he realizes in that moment just how much he’s needed her here. “Betty,” He sighs into her hair, clutching her tightly. “I’m okay,” He tries to soothe her, "I’m better now," he admits, one of his hands coming to stroke her hair tenderly.

“I’m supposed to be making you feel better, not the other way around.” She whispers into his neck, her lips brushing against his skin.

“Trust me,” He sighs, wishing he could kiss her. “You are.” 

She lowers onto flat feet again, but doesn’t let him go. Her face is pressed to his chest and she closes her eyes, as if to savor the moment she has with him as time feels suddenly so precious. “What happened?” She asks quietly, after a beat of just holding each other in silence. She’s remiss to break the reverent moment, but her curiosity eventually wins out. 

“Hiram. That piece of fucking-” He clenches his jaw and shakes his head as he pulls back to look at her. “He could have killed us! I should go over there tonight and give him a piece of my fucking mind.” His eyes are wild and he moves away from her, coughing hard again to clear his throat. He brings his hand up to his lungs, which seize in pain at the act.

“He’s a sociopath,” She agrees, stepping towards him. “And tomorrow, you and I will figure out how the fuck we’re going to deal with him and make him pay for this. But, Archie. Right now? You’re not okay. Maybe you should put the oxygen mask back on, hmm?” She encourages, dropping her hands to the backs of his elbows and guiding him back to sit down again.

“Betty, I’m-”

“For me, please?” She interrupts his would be excuse before it comes to fruition, her voice sweet in a way she knows he’s powerless too.

He shakes his head at her but does put the mask back on as she’s asked and he can’t pretend it doesn’t feel better when he takes a deep breath with it on. She smiles happily at him and his eyes flick down to her hand which is moving towards his own when they hear the sound of someone clearing their throat and it stops her in the act.

She turns around and moves slightly, which reveals that it’s Jughead who’s interrupted the moment. It’s fitting, really. “Hey, uh,” The brunette scratches his neck awkwardly. “Tabitha is on her way to pick me up, she said I can crash on her couch since I’ve got the early shift tomorrow so, if it’s alright, I’m gonna head out?” He studies Archie questioningly.

“Of course man, I’m sorry, about all this. If I hadn’t pissed off Hiram,” He sighs and shakes his head. “I’m just sorry you got caught up in it.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad we’re both okay.” He reaches forward and squeezes Archie’s shoulder affectionately. “I’m sorry though, about the house and everything. If you need anything, you’ve got my number.” He nods and shifts awkwardly on his feet again. “Right, well. Tab should be here soon, I’m gonna go wait down the street a little so she doesn’t have to try to turn around in all this craziness,” He motions to the trucks and other vehicles. “I’ll see you two at school?”

They exchange pleasantries and Jughead heads off. Betty waits with Archie while he talks to the firefighters and gives his statement. They’ve managed to save a decent amount of the house’s first floor, but it’s nowhere near livable right now. She stares helplessly at the charred, dilapidated remains. If it makes her this sad, she can only imagine how Archie must feel. “Well, that’s the last of them.” His voice distracts her and she turns to look at him and then at the street where the last of the emergency services vehicles are pulling away. 

His lawn is now both starkly quiet and empty. She retries her earlier attempt at reaching for his hand, “Stay with me tonight?” She offers, biting nervously on her bottom lip as soon as she’s chanced the words.

He smiles, in spite of everything and draws her closer. “What about your mom and the twins?”

She shrugs and sighs. She should care. She  _ does _ care. But, she doesn’t want to be alone tonight and she doesn’t think Archie should be either. Well, it’s more than that and she knows it, but she’s not ready to fully confront what that means, so she ignores it instead. “My mother has always taught me to help out a friend in need.” She defends with a smile. 

Yeah, she’ll go with  _ that  _ as the reason.

He doesn’t want to be alone either. More than that, he wants to be with Betty. It’s clear to him now, that what he feels for her is turning into something more than just ‘fun’ like they’d agreed on before. Kind of shitty that it’s taken his house being set on fire for him to see that fact with clarity, but he doesn’t mind the newfound knowledge. If the way she hugged him earlier is any indication, she’s feeling things too. “I mean if you’re sure it’s not an inconvenience.” He replies as casually as possible.

She rolls her eyes at him but gives no other reply but to tuck her hand into his. They gather the things he’s managed to get out of the house with him and he follows behind her and up the stairs to her room. 

The Cooper house is otherwise silent as they make their way to the respite of her bedroom. She helps him set the items carefully in her closet and then wordlessly, she moves past him, heading into her adjoining bathroom to start up the shower. 

“You should get out of those clothes,” She whispers softly, “I’ll wash them for you in the morning.” She adds, her fingers coming to the hem of his shirt to help him take it off. When he nods, she pulls it effortlessly over his head and then discards it onto her hamper. “You can take a shower and then-”

“Join me?” He requests, stepping towards her to rest his hands on her hips affectionately. “I don’t mean for…” He trails off with apparent implication, given the rather explicit nature of their last shower. “I just want to  _ be _ with you.” He whispers, almost timidly.

She steps forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder. “Of course,” comes her quiet reply, tucking her hand into his as she leads him to the bathroom. Truth be told, she knows she can use a shower too after tonight’s nightmare at the swamp. More than that, she just wants to  _ be _ with him too. 

She helps him undress, but the distraction of kissing him between the removal of each article of clothing proves to be more of a hindrance than a help. Finally, she urges him into the inviting warmth of the shower’s stream. He tries to protest, says that he can help her undress like she’s done for him. But, she figures he can use the moment alone, even if he doesn’t know it. She pulls her hair into a messy bun to avoid it getting too wet from the shower. She’ll take a more proper one in the morning anyway, she figures. Quickly thereafter, she makes fast work of removing her own remaining clothes and then joins him in the shower. 

Stepping in, she can see the way his shoulders shake and she knows he’s crying. It breaks her heart even more. She slips behind him wordlessly, wrapping her arms around his torso as she presses her chest to his back and just holds him. 

“I’m sorry,” He starts, drawing his hands up to his eyes, embarrassed as he tries to pull himself together.

“Shh, don’t be sorry.” She whispers back, turning him to face her again. There’s nothing to be ashamed about. She knows how much that house meant to him. How much it reminded him of his dad and the hours they’d logged together repairing various parts of the home. Her heart seizes with compassion for him as she brings her hands up to cup his face, kissing him languorously. “Let me take care of you,” She breathes out, drawing back from him. 

It’s sensual, but not sexual, at least at first. They’re soft, sweet, and slow with each other. Her languid hands drag a suds-covered washcloth over his rippled abdomen, but take special care of the smudges of soot on his arms and the angry red spots where the fire nipped at his skin. Her fingers scratch shampoo into his scalp soothingly, tracing patterns into his red locks as the steaming water streams over them. 

He drops his lips to kiss her, and the act soon turns passionate enough that he finds himself pressing her against the back wall of the shower wantonly.

“Arch,” She whispers cautiously, gasping as the cold tiles violate her otherwise warm skin, she arches her back to get away from them and presses herself more firmly to his chest.

“I know, I know,” He sighs against her lips, capturing the bottom one and drawing it into his mouth slowly. “I just need you right now,” He sighs, leaning his forehead against hers, his hand grasping her hip.

“Just need a distraction?” She corrects, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“No,” He shakes his head and stands firm in his prior conviction. “I just need  _ you _ .” He swallows hard and adds an amendment. “I just  _ want _ you.”

“Arch,” His name sounds tortured as it leaves her lips. She feels torn. Of course she feels things for Archie, she’s not sure she ever stopped, even after all these years have passed. But they agreed this was just friends, having fun. Best friends with benefits, you could say. But the way he’s looking at her doesn’t feel like that. The way he’s looking at her is the way she’s longed to see him look at her for nearly half her life at this point. It's the way he looked at her in the bunker when she’d lied to them both and pretended she didn’t want whatever was blossoming between them to grow into something real.

But then, she knows that he’s raw and emotional right now and that she makes him feel safe. She’s always made him feel safe. So, maybe that’s what this is about? She tries to convince herself of the latter, because that’s easier to give into that idea then to the full weight of what her other theory implies. He’s her oldest friend after all. If he needs comfort from her now, it’s the least she can do, right? 

If he wants her, just her? He can have her. She opens her mouth to say just that but is silenced by his mouth. His hand trails down from her neck, over her breasts, across her stomach, and down between her legs. “Making you feel good, makes me feel good.” He mutters against her neck, letting two of his fingers slip gently into her as his thumb comes to trace pressured circles to her most sensitive area. She gasps, tilting her head back fervidly at the feeling, before finding his lips again.

He certainly knows what he’s doing, it’s only a few minutes before she’s biting down on his shoulder to keep from moaning out loud, her legs quaking with the desire he’s coaxed from her. “Archie,” She utters breathlessly into his skin, her hands coming behind his neck, tilting his head back to her own so she can kiss him deeply as she comes undone. 

She steps out of the shower and slides her hand down his arm to settle on his wrist, tugging him forward. Wordlessly, she grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist, kissing him tenderly as she grabs another one for herself. They dry off quickly, interrupting each other with kisses until the fluffy white towels become a forgotten heap on the floor.

He’s still kissing her as he backs her towards her bed, his fingers leaving her tingling with every touch. She turns them around as they reach the side of the bed, and pushes him onto it before following closely behind, straddling him. In their latest torrid adventures, he’s usually taken the lead, but right now she’s the one in charge. She sinks down onto him fully, without precursor, and he throws his head back at the pleasuring act, gripping her hips as his lips crush hers. 

Every time they’ve hooked up, the chemistry has been undeniable. She’s pretty confident in saying that it’s the best sex she’s ever had. But tonight isn’t the same. 

Archie would tend to agree. Tonight is far beyond anything he’s experienced, not just with her, but with anyone. It’s not just ardent eroticism or a need to be distracted from everyday life that brings them together. No, tonight is about something more powerful than those lust-driven feelings. 

Maybe that’s why they can’t seem to get enough of each other; hands roaming each other’s bodies with the deliberate appreciation of cartographers mapping out newly discovered regions.

Maybe that’s why she rocks her hips so slowly, drawing out the moment of tantric connection out as long as possible. He swears she can’t possibly understand just how crazy the languid motions are driving him. He’s pretty sure he could live in this moment forever.

Maybe that’s why, as he makes her cum for a second time that night, she starts to cry. The tears take her by surprise, as he makes her fall apart again, even harder than last time.

She lets her lips crush bruisingly against his, kissing him as if her life depends on it. His tongue rolls over hers, swallowing the moans that he’s inducing from her lips. “You okay?” He mutters, tugging her bottom lip into his mouth as she finishes, her hips slowing as her chest rises and falls rapidly.

“I’ll be better once you,” She trails off implicitly and moves to kiss him again but he draws back and looks at her again.

“I’m serious, babe.” The pet name slips out, and he smiles at the way it makes her bite her lip coyly. But he does draw his thumbs up to her cheeks, swatting at the lines of wetness her tears have left behind, refocusing. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no!” She insists, kissing him to punctuate her point. She’s almost shy to admit the next part, but she feels like they’re on the same wavelength, so she goes for it. “It was just really intense for me, that’s all.” She admits, her eyes flicking to his. He smiles knowingly, eliciting a giggle from her when he flips them over. As her head hits the pillow, as she hikes her leg over his hips, and he thrusts deeper into her, causing her to gasp wantonly.

“For me too” He mumbles against her collarbone, his tongue trailing along it before he stops, sucking gently on her neck. “God you’re beautiful.” He adds, trailing his hand down her body again to steady her hips, each sensual thrust growing in intensity as he gets closer to the edge himself.

He loses himself in her moments later, collapsing against her. Perhaps it’s just the post-coital glow surrounding them, but the air around them feels electric. 

That wasn’t just sex, t hat was making love. 

He kisses her languidly as he pulls out, rolling onto his side as he stares at her. “Betts, that was…” He sighs contentedly and leans over to kiss her again.

“I know,” She agrees, reaching over to his bicep, pulling him towards her again. She has an overwhelming urge to hold him, not to be held. She scoots up on the pillows and then urges his face towards her chest, which is bare, but covered now by her soft pink bed sheet. He snuggles against her willingly, especially when her fingers come up to play with his hair, scratching soothingly against his scalp.

There’s so much he wants to say to her, to ask her. Not only about what just transpired between them, but also about his house and the state she’d been in when she got home. It’s a conversation he means to have before he falls asleep. But then, she’s so safe, warm, and comfortable; he finds himself pulled towards slumber before he has the chance. She feels him relax more on top of hers until eventually, she feels his body become heavy with sleep against her own. 

He’s like a weighted blanket, bringing her a feeling of warmth and safety she hasn’t had in who knows how long. Since before the TBK incident, for sure. But, probably even before that, if she’s being truly honest. Soon enough, her own eyelids grow heavy but she knows sleep won’t come for her. Not even here, where she feels a sense of sanctuary so fully immersed in him; when she’s been so utterly and completely satisfied by their lovemaking.

Still, the terrors of the day catch up to her. The hand in the dirt isn’t Polly’s, but the fear she felt when she thought it was is still real. The panic she felt digging through the layers of soil, plant, and muck haunts her still. The way Alice started to fall apart and she’d instructed Kevin to stop helping and hold her mother instead plays like a movie clip in her mind. The way she finally uncovered the face; the face that wasn’t her estranged older sister, she’s sure will stay with her forever. It’s an odd moment of solace; because it’s regrettable to find anyone out there, left to die like that. At least there’s hope Polly might still be alive.

She thought the ordeal at the swamp would be the worst thing she went through that night, but when she saw the state of Archie’s house when they arrived home? It was enough to break her already fragile psyche. 

Recalling the moment makes tears spring in her eyes again. Archie shifts against her in his sleep, causing the sheet to slip, and his face to press to the bare skin of her chest. She sighs again, her fingers sliding back to card through his hair lazily once more. 

She could get used to this, she thinks. Tangled up in Archie is the safest she’s felt in a long time, even if she still can’t sleep. She lets herself imagine what it might be like if they gave this thing between them a real shot. The idea alone threatens to overwhelm her with emotion so she shoves it away before she can dwell too much.

He stirs against her and she feels him shift, instantly missing the warmth of being pressed together skin to skin. She lets out a small whimper at the loss of contact. “Still awake?” The sound seems to make him ask, his voice heavy with sleep. 

“Mmhmm,” She mutters back, gasping softly when he tugs her against his chest, his hand leaving a trail of goosebumps as it slides up and down her spine. She shivers as he leans down to capture her lips in a slow, unhurried kiss that speaks words they’re too afraid to say out loud yet. It’s a nonverbal confirmation that something has changed between them; with this arrangement they’ve had going on.

“You okay?” He asks quietly, his lips pressed to the corner of her mouth.

“Yeah, just have a hard time sleeping these days.” She supplies vaguely. “Even after mind blowing sex, apparently.” She adds with a soft smile, hoping her last remark will keep him from asking more about her first one. 

“Well,” He pushes at her hip for her to roll to her other side and once she has, he slides behind her, spooning her. “Maybe this will help.” He mutters against her shoulder, before kissing her there.

It doesn’t take long for him to drift back to sleep. His taut chest is hot against her back and his arm is draped lazily over her hip, resting on her thigh. She can feel his warm breath against her neck and somehow, the combination of all those things finally lures her to sleep. She relaxes against him, drifting off to the first restful slumber she’s had in months.


End file.
